A Thing Worth Doing
by Travithian Axile
Summary: One-shot. P3: He had always intended on seeing things through alone — but it turns out his friends are rather more stubborn than he is. Spoilers for endgame and FES.


**PERSONA 3 : A Thing Worth Doing**

Summary: He had always intended on seeing things through alone—but it turns out his friends are rather more stubborn than he is. Spoilers for endgame and FES.

Author's Notes: Written in an attempt to get past writer's block on other stories. Hence might not be very coherent; certainly not very original as it is merely speculation on what MC might be feeling and thinking in the ending and a novelization of sorts of what happened therein.

* * *

Death is lurking in an egg in a cruel parody of life. It hums and glows, but no light touches the night-dark walls. Hands crawl over its smooth surface; caress it with eagerness. There might be faces behind, and mouths calling for Her blessing. He doesn't know, doesn't care. The humming is high and sweet, like a mother's first song, half-remembered; the egg is hatching, She is coming, and by some twist of fate he is the only one who can do anything about it.

If only he knows just what the hell he's supposed to _do_...

In desperation he lashes out with his weapon. Bad move; he might as well have hit a steel wall. The shock goes all the way to his shoulder, and before he can even cry out the egg flares with a brilliant light that stabs into his eyes. It's nothing compared to the pain in his chest. His heart twists and judders like a dying, vicious rat, claws everywhere and poison everywhere—_his body he can't feel his body—_

His friends. Dimly he hears their voices, pricking at the darkness that threatens to suck him under. _Idiot, _they're yelling, but they're more sad and scared than angry. They want to be here with him. They don't understand, he knows, but this is the only way. He's got to be the one to fix this. He's the one with the power, with the World thrumming inside him where Death used to be. He took Death in, and now it's up to him to take Death out.

He struggles to rise together with his new resolve. He just needs to...catch his breath...

The egg flashes again. The voices fade to a whisper in the roar that fills his head. A sudden spike of fear goes through him—in that moment he's not afraid to fail his mission, yield to the sweet mother's voice saying so softly to rest.

What he's afraid of...is dying alone.

"_Don't give up! We have to believe in him!"_

And because of that he fights hard against his traitorous body, his closing eyes, with all the fading strength he can muster; damnit, not here, not now, not when he can feel so strongly the warmth of their love, all the hotter and stronger in this cold timeless place where Death waited—let Her wait forever now, the bitch—

"_Give him strength! Take my life if you must!"_

It's not a hallucination after all. He finds his hands, his feet, and his weapon just inches away. The metal is solid and reassuring in his hand.

"_Yeah! I'm willing to risk mine too!"_

"_He's going to face it alone!"_

"_No, he's not alone! I won't let him die!"_

And suddenly it's as if they _are _there with him, touching his shoulder, his hand, in the way that friends do; and within him are their shadow-selves, the things called Personas, hissing and steaming with elemental force; gods and demons and spirits, bound with nothing more than simple human will. Only it isn't that simple, is it—human will that can call out so plaintively for the end of the world, yet fight so strongly against it. An eternal battle, and he's standing in the middle of it.

Far away, a dog barks. Aigis' voice, once so cold and metallic, infused with that mysterious quality called 'life'...vowing not to let the world be destroyed. He marvels, looking at everything anew; all that he has ever experienced or seen or taken for granted blazes white-hot through him in a cleansing flame, leaving calm understanding in its wake. The Evoker remains sheathed on his hip as he raises his hand and points. He doesn't need it. His head feels clear and light, as though the top of it has shattered away, opening his mind to the beat of the world about it. A great weight rises like a tidal wave from within him. The card spins on the tip of his finger. _The power of the universe, _the strange man with the long nose had told him. _You can do anything._

_Accept your responsibility._

He trembles. In that moment something inside him tips and falls; an obstacle overcome, a precipice passed. He steps forward and the world goes white.

* * *

The doors slam shut, and the sound resonates through the universe.

He is floating amongst the stars. He is bound flat against the gates. Something slithery and dark scratches at his feet, whispering in a horridly familiar voice. He is dreaming; he is awake. His heart throbs in his ears; no, it is cold and still, and he cannot even turn his head to see what is attacking him.

He screams.

As though from a great distance he hears his name. Someone is calling him—wake up, wake up...answer us...

With an effort he opens his eyes. His friends rush forward, doing their best to bear-pile him. In the midst of tears and laughter and recrimination, he forgets the nightmare, almost forgets the ringing hollowness inside him, something scooped out and irretrievably lost.

He feels so tired. But it was all worth it.

* * *

Three months later, he knows.

Aigis' lap is sun-warmed, her voice even warmer with her newfound emotions. Her hands stroke his face. He wishes he could say something, anything; he had always known how to say the right thing to take away the pain. But his personae are silent now, as they have been silent ever since Tartarus fell.

So instead he smiles, forcing it up through the snarl of fear and grief and regret that roils in his heart; holds on to it even as the dark closes in. They can't know that he had any doubt, they can't mourn this ending bought and paid for with his life. He wants them to be happy, and live on...

The last thing he hears are his friends' voices, borne to him on the wind; a surge of love and affection swells within him, and unbidden, his smile becomes real.

He dies with the smile still on his face.

Surely, it was all worth it.

-_end_-


End file.
